Buttons of Peyote
The dusky sky
pushes my peyote buttons being pressed by an American Eagle
Beep, Beep, Beep, BEEEEP, flatlined in the desert
Yet the sun peeks through, giving a dark hazy, potentially false, sense of beautiful hope
Nothing is ever in order
We watch the melted metal
fall from the afternoon sky.
The Human Shades of Khaki, denim, and window pane
create an urban Twilight – Watches shoot through my
peripheral like streams of Hot tracers.
Desert of Despair
Sand whips around as the blades cut the air
the drab palettes of war separated by the heat
Choppers disintegrating as I pull out my hair
The desert heat will melt the metal
The space in the desert where misery and destiny meet
In the worn skies of the desert of despair
Layer Cake: A Recipe
Step one, mix cultures & ideals into a bowl
Stir with ignorance and xenophobia.
Beat in death until stiff.
Bake at 120 degrees, or until the helicopters melt.
Garnish with WMDs. (if you can find them).